I’ve had the privilege of being woken up by noisy neighbors in a one too many countries.
I don’t remember it being as refreshing as when I woke up in Burma recently.
Starting early in the morning and throughout the day people wandered into the neighborhood of closely stacked apartments where I was staying and began yelling, their echoes reaching the tops of the buildings.
I first wondered if people were singing some sort of hymm and I was fascinated by the chorus of sounds coming through the windows.
They were actually the sounds of commerce; kids collecting scraps, people selling food items, lottery tickets, and my favorite— a man selling durian.
To top it off, during the evening of my first night in Yangon, a woman near the corner and some children performed an a cappella sing-a-long. A collaborative lullaby, maybe?
By the second day in Burma, I was done spectating from the barred apartment window and out in the streets to record some of the sounds I heard.
I walked with a man selling brooms and was tempted to give it a try.
I also met women selling mattresses and I’ve attached a recording below so their voices can reach beyond the dilapidated Yangon buildings to wherever you may be reading and listening.
Didn’t take me long to find some inspiration from the environment in Yangon.
I couldn’t help wondering what I’d be selling if I had something to shout at the sky.
What would your message be? What do you have to offer?
I’d like to think, I’d be peddling hope.